


Context

by hutchabelle



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 16:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11212149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchabelle/pseuds/hutchabelle
Summary: Katniss needs some advice about her outfit for a date, so she asks her roommate Peeta for his opinion. His surly answer infuriates her until she understands the context for his mood.Based on the prompt: “you mean it like i think you mean it or you mean it like I would like you to mean it?” [submitted by @thegirlfromoverthepond]





	Context

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merciki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merciki/gifts).



> Huge thanks to @everlarkficexchange and @javistg for both running the exchange and understanding the reasons for my incredibly tardy submission as I took care of some other responsibilities. While I didn’t get this story written during the exchange in March and April, I hope it’s a worthy addition to the collection. @thegirlfromoverthepond, this is for you, my dear friend. I hope you like it.

“Peeta?” Katniss called down the hallway loudly enough to be heard over the baseball game blaring from the big screen TV. “Peeta!” she yelled again when he didn’t answer. “I need a second opinion.”

 

“Living room.”

 

She rolled her eyes and stomped down the hall. Her roommate had been in a mood for the past few days, and she was getting tired of his attitude.

 

“Well?” she snapped and motioned at her outfit. She was supposed to leave for a first date in ten minutes, and she had no idea what to wear.

 

Peeta, her best friend since they were lab partners in their freshman biology class at Seam College, flicked his eyes from the Cardinals/Cubs game and glanced at her with his big blue eyes.

 

“You look great,” he said flatly and took a sip of his beer.

 

When he didn’t offer anything else, she huffed and stepped in front of the screen.

 

“Hey!” he yelped and choked on his drink. He hacked a few times, and his eyes watered so hard fluid streamed down his cheeks. When he recovered, he snarled, “I was watching that.”

 

“Yeah, well, I was asking for an opinion, not a half-assed compliment from someone who barely glanced at me.”

 

He narrowed his eyes and growled through gritted teeth, “I already said you look great. What else do you want?”

 

“Do you mean it like I think you mean it, or do you mean like I want you to mean it?”

 

He flopped back against the couch cushions and closed his eyes in defeat. “You’re gorgeous. You’ll knock him dead. Go get your groove on. I’ll be here watching baseball and waiting for you to come home and tell me how awful it was.”

 

“Your confidence in me is overwhelming.” She winced at the hurt in her voice and turned to leave the room. When he didn’t stop her, she marched down the hall and slammed the door to her bedroom. It was childish, and she knew it, but she didn’t really care at this point. She was over his surliness and shade.

 

Glancing at herself in the mirror one more time, she gave a curt nod at her reflection and grabbed her sweater and bag from the bed before pausing. The shirt she wore was a startling royal blue with a plunging neckline that accentuated her small chest, and her black skinny jeans clung to her in all the right places. She still couldn’t get used to seeing herself as a sexy woman, but the changes in her body over the past few years were real. Even Peeta had noticed and commented on how feminine she’d become since her tomboy days when they’d first met.

 

She sighed, frustrated with Peeta’s recent curtness and barely contained anger. Palming the pearl earrings he’d given her for Christmas, she weighed them before putting them in her ears and adjusting her necklace to settle in the hollow of her cleavage. The blue shirt made her gray eyes sparkle, and her braid was loose enough that dark wisps framed her face and softened her angular jaw. She knew she looked good, and she wished Peeta would let go of his snark long enough to pay her a genuine compliment. If he did, maybe she wouldn’t feel the need to date the other men who asked her out while her roommate ignored her.

 

Katniss squared her shoulders and grabbed her keys. She slipped down the hallway and through the living room quietly without bothering to say goodbye and drove to the restaurant where her date waited. He was handsome—a graduate student in forestry whom she’d met during her junior year in college. They’d been friends for a while, but he’d finally bucked up the courage to ask her out when they’d crossed paths at the coffee shop where she worked on the weekends.

 

“Katniss,” Gale called when she entered the restaurant—a hole in the wall called Sae’s that catered to college students who craved home cooking.

 

“Gale,” she offered in greeting with a hint of a smile on her lips. “Sorry I’m a little late.”

 

Her date assured her it was fine, but the night quickly went downhill from there. All the ease and effortlessness of their friendship disappeared as soon as they sat down together, and their conversation deteriorated to stilted and uncomfortable. Gale managed to insult her without meaning to, and she couldn’t figure out a single thing to say to him that didn’t make him bristle with indignation. His behavior vacillated between attentive and dismissive, which confused and irritated her. By the time dessert arrived, Katniss wanted nothing more than to go home and slide into bed. That is, until she remembered what Peeta had said to her before she left.

 

_“You’re gorgeous. You’ll knock him dead. Go get your groove on. I’ll be here watching baseball and waiting for you to come home and tell me how awful it was.”_

 

Why was he always right? He’d known before she left the house that tonight would be a disaster. His smug arrogance was enough to make her rethink her hasty exit from the date, which is how she found herself back at Gale’s apartment, straddling him as his hand unclasped her bra and fondled her breasts.

 

Gale’s mouth hovered over the soft skin on her neck, and she shifted and felt him grow rigid beneath her. He groaned and bucked into her before leaning her backward until he covered her with his body. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to convince herself she was enjoying what they were doing until he slipped his fingers inside her waistband and stroked between her legs.

 

“Stop, Gale,” she ordered, but he kept kissing her. She wasn’t sure if he’d heard her or not.

 

“Katniss,” he moaned into her neck, and he pressed his length into her thigh. “So sexy.”

 

She gritted her teeth and pushed against him. “Stop, Gale,” she repeated. “I don’t want to do this.”

 

His finger stroked her again before he pulled his head back and looked at her in a daze. His darkened eyes lacked focus, and he rasped as he attempted to control his breathing. His pants were tented as he lifted off her, and he cursed when she accidentally brushed his crotch with her knee as she scrambled out from under him.

 

“Tell me you’re joking,” he demanded, his voice deadly calm. Katniss shook her head and attempted to refasten her bra without exposing herself to him.

 

“I’m not joking,” she insisted. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry, Gale, but we shouldn’t be anything more than friends. That was one of the most uncomfortable dinners I’ve ever had.”

 

“Katniss, I’ve been trying to get you to go out with me for months. Come back here. We can take it slow.”

 

She studied him, her gaze wary and unsure. He was good-looking, with features so similar to hers that sometimes she felt as if she were looking in a mirror when she saw him. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to prove Peeta wrong. She wanted someone to enjoy her company instead of being snotty to her every time she asked a question.

 

Cautiously, she asked, “Do you mean it like I think you mean it, or do you mean like I want you to mean it?”

 

He quirked an eyebrow and looked at her. “I’m not sure what you’re asking,” he answered, and she swallowed her disappointment.

 

Peeta always knew what she meant when she offered that response. Her best friend understood her habit of masking her vulnerability behind a series of questions. She’d mastered deflection soon after her father died and the adults around her probed too much in attempts to show her compassion she didn’t want and couldn’t handle. Peeta always knew. He always got it. He was always there for her—no matter how awful his mood.

 

She shook her head and flashed Gale a soft smile, a gentle one to soften the blow. “I think I’d better go home. This isn’t really my style. I’m sorry for giving you the wrong impression.”

 

Gale rose from the couch and glowered at her, his height and build menacing in the semi-dark room. For the briefest moment, Katniss shrank back, but then he shrugged his shoulders.

 

“Whatever you want. No skin off my nose.”

 

The apathy in his voice shook her. She’d thought their friendship was stronger and more important to him than his response indicated. He’d ordered the same drink week after week as he made small talk with her at her work. He’d dropped hints for months before she’d agreed to date him, and now… Now he didn’t seem to care at all if she walked out the door. Just like Peeta had earlier that evening.

 

Katniss blinked against the tears that pricked at the back of her eyes and ran for the door. She sprinted to her car and turned the key in the ignition with trembling hands. She didn’t stop shaking until she pulled into her own driveway and saw the light in the living room window. Peeta was inside—still awake and waiting for her to return from what he’d accurately predicted would be a disastrous date. She straightened her shoulders and checked herself in the mirror before approaching the front door.

 

“You’re home early. Date go well?” His tone was flat, but she still shivered at the sound of his voice.

 

“I wanted to see how the game turned out,” she said as she moved into living room and studied the set of his jaw. Seeing him brought her comfort, despite his rotten attitude.

 

“Which game are you talking about?” he grumbled, and she released a frustrated sigh.

 

“The one you’re watching Peeta. What other game is there?” she cried as she threw her hands up in the air. “Why are you being so awful to me?”

 

“I’m not being awful.”

 

She stared at him until he shifted uncomfortably and looked up at her from his slouched position on the couch. At the look in her eyes, he flushed.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

She remained silent and watched him until he tried again.

 

“Seriously, Kat. I’m sorry.”

 

“Do you mean it like I think you mean it, or do you mean like I want you to mean it?”

 

The corner of his mouth quirked upward, and he fought to keep his face straight. He lost it when her lips curved upward into a smirk. In seconds, they both burst into giggles that spilled from them in cascading waves.

 

“That always irritates me. You know that, Katniss,” he reminded her between hasty gulps of air.

 

“You know that’s one of the reasons I do it.”

 

“I do know that,” he agreed and patted the couch next to him. “Come sit. Tell me about your night.”

 

She heaved an exaggerated groan and plopped next to him on the couch. He offered her his beer, and she took a hefty swallow before dropping her head back and staring at the ceiling.

 

“It wasn’t great.”

 

“I assumed that since you came home early.” She didn’t reply, so he nudged her with his elbow. “What happened? You know you can tell me.”

 

“Can I?” she wondered aloud. “You’ve been such a jerk lately—snipping at me and pouting and snarling. I don’t understand what I did.”

 

Peeta sighed and reached for her hand. As he intertwined his fingers through hers, he spoke softly, “You didn’t do anything, Kat. It’s my fault. I’ve just been in a bad place for the past few months. You can talk to me. I didn’t mean to be such a dick.”

 

“Is that what you meant?” she asked as she jerked her hand from his. “This has been a game? You’ve been toying with me the past few weeks, pushing to see how much I’ll take from you before I snap?”

 

His face flushed bright red, and he studied his hands that lay limply in his lap for several seconds before he nodded.

 

“I thought you were going out with all those guys to hurt me,” he admitted softly. “It seemed like every time I asked you to do something, you had plans with someone else, and it bothered me more than it should have. The more that happened, the more I resented you.”

 

“But why? When? What did you ask me to do that I said no?” Katniss wracked her brain, attempting to remember when he’d started to pull away from her, but she couldn’t exactly pinpoint a time. She just knew it’d been going on for much longer than she wanted.

 

Peeta shrugged and admitted bashfully, “You probably didn’t even realize it. Remember when I went home for my brother’s birthday, and I asked you if you wanted to tag along?” When she nodded, he explained, “The older I get, the more my mom picks on me when I’m there. ‘Why haven’t you brought anyone home, Peeta?’ ‘When are you going to get married and give me grandbabies?’ ‘Doesn’t anyone want you?’ ‘You’re such a disappointment, Peeta.’ I just didn’t want to hear it anymore, and I thought maybe she’d lay off if you were with me. When you said you had to work, I was so upset that I took it out on you instead of realizing it’s my mother who makes me mad.”

 

“Peeta—”

 

“And then you started going out with other guys,” he continued, intent to finish. “If you said yes to them, then why not to me? Why not to your best friend? Am I not important enough? Do you not care about me and my feelings?”

 

“You know that’s not true,” she insisted, her throat tightened with emotion.

 

“I know. I know that, but that doesn’t mean I feel that.” He shrugged and joked, “This may surprise you, but I’m only human, you know. Just because I’m so good-looking and brilliant doesn’t mean I don’t have insecurities.”

 

She surprised herself by giggling at his self-efficacy leaned her shoulder into his. “You know, I thought you were above all that being a human stuff. I mean, you’re practically perfect. I wondered if you were a demi-god or something.”

 

“Well, you found my Achilles heel.”

 

“Your mother,” she said, but he tensed next to her.

 

“No, Katniss. Not my mother. You.”

 

Shocked, she jerked her head sideways to study him. He wouldn’t look at her, his blue eyes downcast and his ears flaming with an embarrassed red. He worried his bottom lip with his teeth, and she noticed a tremble in his usually steady, artistic hands.

 

“What? Wh-what do you mean?” Her voice shook when she asked. The air seemed to have been sucked suddenly from the room, and the silence was so loud it hurt her ears.

 

He inhaled sharply before raising his face to hers. He released his breath in a hiss and blurted, “I hate watching you go out with other people. I thought I could handle it. I can’t. I want you to go out with me. I want to be the one you get dressed up for and worry about whether or not you look good. You always do, by the way. Every single time. You are gorgeous. Every time you walk out that door. Every morning when you wake up. Every night when you say goodnight to me in your yoga pants and ratty t-shirt you pretend pass for pajamas. Right now…”

 

Katniss stared at him, completely confused. Her eyes had to be as big as half dollars. She couldn’t form words.

 

“I’ve horrified you,” Peeta deadpanned. “That’s just great.”

 

“No! I’m not… I’m not horrified.”

 

“You’re not, huh?”

 

Working through her surprise quickly, she shook her head and turned on the couch to face him. “No, I’m not. Not horrified at all. I’m… I think intrigued is the word.”

 

“Intrigued?” he asked, his eyebrows raised and a spark of hope glinted in his irises.

 

“Curious.”

 

He studied her for a few seconds and asked hesitantly, “About what?”

 

“How it would feel to kiss you,” she whispered.

 

Her eyes slipped closed as he cupped her cheek in his palm and threaded his fingers through her dark hair. He brushed his lips softly against hers before pressing his mouth more firmly into a gentle kiss. She yielded to him, her lips parting under his so he could capture her upper lip lightly between his teeth. He stroked her cheekbone with his thumb, and she breathed in his scent—spicy, comforting, and enticing.

 

Images of their time together flashed through her mind—Peeta cooking soup and fresh baked buns with asiago cheese melted on top when she had a cold; the way he blushed and stammered when he ran into her in the hall wearing only a towel around his waist and water droplets that glistened on his chest; the huskiness of his voice when he offered her a cup of coffee in morning. She’s been paying attention to him far more than she realized.

 

He pulled back, and her eyes flickered open at the loss of contact. His vulnerability, uneasiness, and guarded happiness shone on his face.

 

“You kissed me back,” he murmured. “Do you mean it like I think you mean it, or do you mean like I want you to mean it?”

 

Her heart melted at his use of her defense mechanism to cover his anxiety.

 

“You’ll have to figure that out from context,” she teased softly and pulled his mouth back to hers.

 

She had no intention of letting him misunderstand her ever again.


End file.
